Incorrect Assumptions
by zharptitsa
Summary: Part Five of my Blindness series, Sheir, and once again sorry for the wait.


Elizabeth's POV

Oh God. Turning the corner, I immediately stopped, my eyes riveted on the scene before me: Teyla her hand gripping John's arm staring imploringly into his shocked face. The blood drained from my face and I swear I could feel the world spin beneath me, trapping and tormenting me with the images of the scene before me; my mind supplying the words I was too far away to hear. Teyla confessing her love, John's face shocked at first but slowly giving way to hope and joy as he began to believe. In my head the scene went further, to John's reciprocation to the embrace that would follow, their courtship, from the pretending to be discrete stage to the publicly cute and cuddly stage and through to the deeply committed. I felt as though I had lost something precious and vital; something that I didn't actually have and had only just learned I wanted, but still precious. I could not move, could barely breath, could do nothing but watch the hateful scene play out repeatedly before my eyes…until John moved, tilting his head slightly, his eyes suddenly meeting mine, piercing me, holding me still for a half second more. The dawning happiness in his eyes gave my agony strength to wrest me from the hold he had on me. Moving just slowly enough to not draw attention to myself, I fled.

Through corridors and up flights of stairs, past people, not knowing, not caring what they thought, not even really seeing them. I thought of nothing save getting as far away from the images still swirling in my head as quickly as I could.

When I finally came to a trembling halt, I realized I had run to our balcony, a hideous pain lanced through me as I realized that there was no 'our balcony;' there was no '_our'_ anything, and there never would be.

I wrapped my arms tightly around my self, as if they alone could keep me from falling apart. I thought of leaving but I had to laugh, a hoarse bitter sound that ended as more of a hysterical sob than a laugh, when it occurred to me that I didn't know where else to go. John and this place had been my comfort for so long, that even though it was filled with the memories and dreams of him that were the cause of my despair, I could not leave; there was no one and nothing else to comfort me.

I don't know how long I was out there trying to negotiate my pain away, tormenting myself with visions of their happiness, as if it would hurt less if I thought about it more; if I became accustomed to it, I could convince myself it had always been this way and therefore I had lost nothing, and nothing can't possibly hurt me.

The sound of the balcony door sliding open interrupted my nonsensical thoughts. I idly wondered how long I had been out here that someone had dared to interrupt me and how rude I would have to be to make them leave. I don't think I could bear to talk to anyone about anything. I'm still holding myself perfectly still caught between wanting to curl up and cry like a baby or just start shrieking for all of Atlantis to hear.

"Elizabeth," John's soft voice interrupted my thoughts.

"I'd like to be alone, John," I didn't understand why he would be here, but I assumed he wanted to inform me of his new relationship with Teyla, and I couldn't handle that now, maybe tomorrow I'll have accepted this, but not now when I feel like I'm unraveling.

"Elizabeth," John said a little more insistently and I imagined I could hear his happiness and his eagerness to share his news in his voice.

"Go away, Major!" I said, much harsher than I meant to. He however seems unphased.

"It's really important, Elizabeth, Teyla said something today that made me think—"

"Please, John," my voice breaking on the word, "I can't do this right now." I tried to move past him before he could see me completely break down, but his hand shot out, grabbing my arm before I had gotten two steps.

"Elizabeth," he tried again and this time I felt his fingers ghost along my check. I managed to lift my weary and resigned head to meet the pity I expected in his gaze. Instead I saw only tenderness as he gently shifted his hand to cup my cheek and slowly leaned forward to press two soft, barely there kisses to my lips. And then, placing his forehead against mine, our faces nuzzled together, he waited for me to react.

So I kissed him.


End file.
